All About the Two of Us
by Skalidra
Summary: Tim has been eating alien foods again, and is extremely high. Jason has been dealing with a high Tim, and could use something to work off some of his extra energy. Dick has had a long night, but is always up to have some fun with Jason. Both of them are very insistent that Tim not be involved, though he's welcome to watch. - Same universe as 'A Little Incentive'. Dick/Jason/Tim.


Welcome back! So, this is a prompt from masterdorkoftheuniverse, requesting prompt number 6, "Is there a reason you're naked in my bed?", with Dick and Tim. And Jason snuck his way in. (You did say 'Or both. Or everything.', so... XD) So, this is in the same universe as 'A Little Incentive', which I have officially named the 'Incentive Universe' until/unless I find a better name for it. To reiterate, that's a BDSM relationship between Tim and Jason (with submissive Jason) which then incorporates Dick as a permanent third partner, and Jason's secondary dominant.

 **Warnings** for this are: mentions of BDSM and a three-person relationship, and graphic oral sex. Enjoy!

* * *

It's been a long night. Every step is like there's a heavy weight lying across my shoulders, and I'm in that mostly automatic daze of motion that tends to take over when it's this late after a night on patrol. Or early, in this case. Almost five, and it's only spring so dawn hasn't started yet, but it won't be that much longer. An hour, maybe an hour and a half if I'm lucky. Maybe I'll actually be able to pull the curtains all the way across the window and get a decent chunk of sleep before somebody drags me back to consciousness.

I climb in the window of my apartment, my eyes blinking closed for a long moment as I rest my head against the frame. Just for a second, I swear. Just long enough for some of the tension in my neck to slip out, before I get all the way inside and shut it again.

I straighten out, pull the curtain, and look up. I blink. Then tilt my head and blink again.

There's _light_ spilling out from inside the open door to my bedroom. Alright, not _totally_ unusual. It's just one of my Gotham safe houses, and sometimes people stop by to use those when they need somewhere to crash for a night, and don't feel like heading back to whatever city they came from. I don't keep my safe houses secret from my friends, and when they borrow houses or apartments for a night it rarely ever intersects with where I'm sleeping. I guess this is going to be one of the rare times it does.

So who's in Gotham right now? No one I can think of, but that doesn't really mean anything either. Not everyone lets me know when they're coming by, and sometimes people stop at my safe houses just because they happen to be passing by the city and need to sleep.

But who would still be awake — or have left the light on — at five in the morning?

I move into the apartment, keeping my footsteps quiet just in case whoever is here is actually asleep. I approach the light, and poke my head around the corner of the doorframe. There _is_ someone sprawled out across my bed, pale skin a sharp counterpoint to the blue sheets — the same color as my Nightwing symbol; a partial joke gift from Alfred — where he's lying face down on top of those sheets. After a glance up to confirm black hair, closed eyes that I know are a pale blue, and one muscled arm drawn beneath his head, I let my gaze slide down the curve of his spine, tracing the lines of old scars as I step into the room and cross over to the bed.

I sit down next to him, and his eyes flicker open at the shifting of the bed as I settle my weight on it. "Hey Tim," I murmur, with a soft smile, "is there a reason you're naked in my bed?"

He blinks at me, _stares_ for a second, and then gives a small laugh. His pupils look a little abnormally wide, and I take a subtle glance down the length of his body to check for any kind of puncture wound, bruises, or anything else. Nothing shows up on a first glance, but there's a whole half of his body I can't see.

" _Hey_ , Dick," Tim answers, with a crooked smile. He draws out the 'hey' like it's some kind of exclamation, and something worthy of excitement.

In the distance, I hear a muted, "Oh _fuck_." I turn my head to follow the sound, and look over just in time to see a second person slip out of my bathroom. No light in there, but that doesn't really surprise me.

"Jason," I greet, with a small, kind of bemused grin. "Explanation?"

He's shirtless, but he's got a pair of black sweatpants on at least. I think he might have stolen them out of my dresser though, because they're a couple inches too short. Not surprising, people tend to 'borrow' my clothing a fair amount when they crash in my places. Usually I get it back; sometimes it's even washed.

Jason raises his right hand, scrubbing it along his face and then back through what registers to me as damp hair. "Alright, so, yeah. This moron tried something alien, _again_ , and he's really pretty high. No other side effects as far as I could tell, so I figured I'd just let him sleep it off." Jason aims a small glare past me, at the sprawled form of Tim. "I _tried_ to get him to one of his safe houses, but he kept insisting that this was one of his and he just _had_ to be here. I left him underneath the blankets and still partially clothed, to be fair to my image here."

Tim gives a little burst of giggles, and then breathes out, "I _lied_." I look back at him, and he wobbles a few inches up and then slides back down with this big, _dreamy_ grin stretching his mouth. His pupils are _definitely_ blown wide. "Jason's _firm_ , did you know that?"

I stifle a snort; Jason doesn't bother. "Yes, Tim, I know that. Come on, underneath the covers with you."

He makes a protesting noise, and doesn't budge so much as an inch. " _No_ , Dick, you don't get it. He's just _solid_ , all the way through. Firm, and hard." Tim snickers, shoulders rising for a fraction of a second in the aborted laugh. " _Hard_."

I raise an eyebrow and look up at Jason, who shrugs. "Yeah, he's been like this the whole time. Really into wanting the sex right now too, which would be a lot more fun if he wasn't high as balls. It's always best when he's really _into_ the sex — you know? — but there's no way I'm messing with him while he's this screwed up."

Jason moves closer, coming to sit by my side and higher on the bed, closer to Tim's head. Tim nearly _moans_ when Jason's fingers touch his head, and then stroke along his scalp. He definitely tilts his head down so Jason's got more room to work with. The corner of Jason's mouth tilts up in a tiny smile, and he snorts again as he shakes his head. I can't help mimicking that smile, as I watch the expression in Jason's eyes melt into something gentle and tender. I don't know how to describe it, but I know exactly what it means. Jason cares for Tim, he cares for me, and even if my involvement with them is completely under the radar so far, and only a few people know that the two of them have been together for years, it doesn't change that he thinks of us as his. Sometimes, that shines through.

Still, it doesn't mean that he becomes like a ball of mush or something. He's still _Jason_.

"Jack off in the shower?" I tease, with a grin.

 _Instantly_ , he answers, "You bet your ass I did. He's been semi-conscious and clinging to me for half the city. Cute, but really not helping this 'he's high and now I'm horny thanks to him' bullshit."

"I didn't get to _join?_ " Tim gasps. I honestly can't decide whether it's real or exaggerated betrayal.

Jason's fingers brush bangs away from Tim's face, and then easily dodge the awkward, clumsy tilt of Tim's head as he — I think — tries to catch Jason's fingers in his mouth. "Missed the part where you're _high_ , Little Red? No sex while under mind altering substances; you're not in any condition to give consent, so you don't get to touch or be touched anything but innocently. You know that."

I give a small hum of agreement. "Maybe next time don't ingest the questionable alien substance, hm?" Tim whines, but seems distracted enough by Jason's hand that he doesn't stop and actually argue the point.

I shift forward a few inches, and Jason looks over as I lean in to catch his mouth in a kiss. He meets me, and I can feel the faint curl of a smile on his mouth. I raise my right hand, brushing it against his cheek and then stroking back to take a handful of his hair. I can feel the hitch in Jason's breath as he leans into me, ceding control to my grip. I've seen it a hundred times now, but seeing and feeling Jason soften down from his status as a confident badass, and into being a willing sub, is always a little thrilling.

When I saw Jason and Tim together the first time, _obviously_ and in public, I could see this between them. I don't know how long it went on before they decided to stop hiding it, but once they did the nature of their relationship was pretty clear to me. Tim was still sleeping with Kon fairly regularly, and Bart sometimes, and Jason still wound up in a bed or two that wasn't Tim's sometimes. Committed, but definitely not monogamous.

Then there was the way that Jason would look at Tim like he was the only thing in the room, no matter the distance between them. And the _body language_. Oh _god_ , did that scream it at me. Jason is almost constantly aggressive, defensive, and otherwise confident, but whenever he was next to Tim he softened and cued off of Tim's reactions instead. Tim, in return, always clicked to attention whenever Jason was nearby. Not obviously, but just enough that his gaze tracked Jason instead of anyone else, or his torso would be slightly tilted towards Jason. Subtle, non-verbal hints that he was paying attention.

I didn't really need the glimpses of bruises and scratches to know that Jason was playing bottom to our younger brother. I didn't need them to know that they were playing with BDSM either. The one time I stumbled on them, Tim had Jason on his knees, a hand in his hair and the other pressing his thumb hard into the hollow of Jason's throat. Jason's expression was somewhere between strain and bliss, and I slipped back out of the room before either of them saw me. That was my absolute confirmation, but I could see it in them before that.

I had practice at spotting people with a taste for kink; it came in handy when I wanted to stretch that side of myself without having to really go hunting for a partner.

I honestly didn't think they'd ever invite _me_ to join in on the fun, let alone do it pretty permanently. Tim might still be Jason's primary dom, but I'm his second. It's a dream come true that I never even really considered dreaming in the first place.

Jason's free hand presses hard enough against my side that I can feel it through my suit, and a low growl leaves his throat. It's deeper and rougher than Tim _or_ me are capable of making, and I draw in a shallow breath so I can swallow away the slight tension in my gut. I love his noises probably a little more than is healthy, honestly. Jason's mouth cracks open, and practice makes me draw back before he can nip at my lips. It wouldn't be hard enough to really hurt, but it's the first in a line of tells that means he wants something and is challenging me to get it. The later tells can get rough, or irritated.

I open my eyes, just in time to watch Jason's mouth close again in a sharp show of teeth. "What is it?"

Jason's eyes flick open, and then his hand squeezes down on my side. "You should get out of this," he suggests, with a crooked grin.

"Is that right?" I tease, and he snorts.

" _Yes_. Little Red's pretty out of it, but I could use a good fuck to work the last of this out." That hand slides back, looping his arm around my waist and then drawing me hard in against him. It would be a whole lot more effective if I was shirtless too, but that's still a lot of skin that's a lot closer to me than it was a second ago. Jason's grin helps too, and the carefree edge to the way he's looking at me. Lust, sure, but also a playful edge that lightens his eyes.

I give my own grin, keeping it small and not making any effort to reinstate control over the situation. "You just got off," I point out. "Hair's still damp, and you wouldn't leave Tim alone like this for long. That's what, ten minutes ago? Fifteen?"

"And?" Jason shifts towards me, grin gaining just a touch of a wicked edge. One I know well enough that when he's suddenly moving, swinging his leg across thighs and straddling my hips, it doesn't surprise me. His right arm hooks around my shoulders, fingers tracing up the back of my neck as his thighs clamp down on my hips. "By the time you've got me ready, I'll be able to go again. You know that, Dick."

 _Very_ true. I've had enough fun driving Jason to exhaustion — or watching Tim do it — to know the basic times for how long it takes him to recover, or just to be able to be hard again. It's one of my favorite games, honestly. When he's over sensitive and at the mercy of my touch, shaking against ropes or the grip of either my hands or Tim's, is when he makes some of his most gorgeous noises. I never get tired of driving him to that point.

I let go of his hair so I can grip the back of Jason's neck instead, letting him get comfortable across my lap and only giving the slightest support to help him balance. Not that he needs even that much. "What are you thinking?" I ask.

Jason is the one to kiss me this time, as he rolls his hips into mine. I can barely feel it through the suit, but I can see and feel him moving and that's enough. This time I don't react fast enough to stop him nipping at my bottom lip though, and I give a slightly displeased huff — I'm not a big fan of pain, not unless it comes in the form of him raking his nails across my back or something — but don't call him out on it.

"No," Tim gasps from behind us, and I turn my head over my shoulder to look down at him. His eyes are wide — oh yeah, whatever he got in his system still has him high as a kite — and there's something like horror to the curl of his mouth. "No, you're not that _mean_ ," he whines. "Let me _play_."

Jason snorts out a breath, shaking his head. "Just sex," he says in answer to me. "Actually playing would just be _cruel_ , and Tim's the only real sadist of the three of us." His thighs squeeze against my hips again. "Whether you're going to fuck me or not, Dick, you need to get the hell out of that suit and come to bed. I'm not sleeping with you while you're in that thing."

"What, not interested in fucking Nightwing?" The teasing words come out before I can think about it.

Jason laughs, smirk curling into another grin as his head tilts back for a few moments. I try not to see that smooth, pale, _open_ line of his throat. When Jason finally looks back down he tightens his grip on me, and then taps his fingers at the back of my neck. "Maybe later, Dick. Love to play out some of those fantasies in my head, but now's not the time. And gotta say, 'fucked in a safehouse by Nightwing,' was never really a big fantasy for me. Usually those involved a lot more rooftops, or the Cave. _Mmmm_ , or the Batmobile."

My breath catches as Jason arches a little bit, that grin fading as he parts his mouth and draws in a forcefully slow breath. " _Oh_ , yeah. Definitely had some fantasies about getting fucked over the hood of that damn car."

"You're a _menace_ ," I breathe, squeezing the back of his neck and pulling him into a kiss. He snickers into the press of my mouth, but meets me wholeheartedly. I only let it go on for a couple of seconds before pulling away. "Alright, alright. Get off me and I'll strip down." He grins, and then lets his hands slide away from me as he swings off my lap. I have to try really hard not to watch as he lies down on his back in the bed, _totally_ purposefully spreading his legs a little bit, and I busy myself with getting to my feet instead.

Stripping out of the suit is second nature, and I let the pieces drop on the floor without much care. I can pick them up later, when Tim isn't naked and Jason isn't inviting my attention. Speaking of…

I drop the last of my suit to the ground and turn towards them, standing over the bed but not getting onto it. Not yet. "Tim," I say, keeping my voice gentle, but loud enough to get his attention. I hold his dazed gaze for a moment before continuing. "If you get underneath the covers, on the other side of the bed, you can watch. Alright, Tim? But we're serious; no touching while you're high. If you can't keep your hands to yourself, this doesn't happen."

Tim is still for long enough that I think maybe he didn't understand me, but then he's moving in an awkward, spastic, flail of limbs that nearly makes me burst out laughing. He manages to get underneath the covers, only his head peering out. "Got it," he whispers, eyes wide and a flush across his cheeks.

Jason doesn't bother holding back his laugh, his arms crossed beneath his head and his abdomen clenching with each burst of the amused sound. Tim's eyes are glued on me though, so I just let myself smile as I shift down onto the bed. Jason more or less focuses on me as I get between his legs, easing his thighs open with gentle pressure from my hands. I want to push up between them, layer myself across his body and kiss him, but I hold the urge back. Instead I slide my hands up to hook over the top of the sweatpants, and drag them down his hips. For once he cooperates, raising his ass off the bed so I can get the pants off of him pretty easily. All of this is going to be easier if we're both naked to start with; I've already done my part of that.

He's not hard — it's too soon for that, he'll need some more time — but he still flashes me a satisfied grin and slides his calves along either side of my waist. There's not real pressure there, so it's not a demand to move closer to him, it's just a tease. One little reminder that if I _was_ closer he could wrap his legs around me and hold me there, and I could enjoy the feeling of his thighs pressing against my sides and his ankles crossed at the small of my back. It's pretty tempting, I admit.

"Hang on," I murmur, with a smile and a stroke of my hand up his leg. I'm about to lean all the way over him to get to the end table, but he moves before I can. He turns and twists, reaching up with one of his arms to pull the drawer of the end table out. Out of instinct, I catch the bottle he tosses at me. He doesn't shut the drawer — we'll need a condom out of there later on — but just lies back down and recrosses his arms behind his head instead.

"You ready now?" he teases.

I lean down over him, sliding my free hand over his side as I finally push myself up and between his thighs. "Menace," I murmur, before I kiss him. Within a second Jason's got one of his hands in my hair, and is dragging me in closer against him. Then his legs slide up, hooking around the back of my thighs and dragging me closer there as well. There's only a little give in his grip; just enough that I could pull away if I really wanted to.

Jason _thrives_ off challenge, and he only ever really submits when it's been proven to him that the person he's playing with really can handle him. I hardly ever see it when I watch Tim with him, and even then it's just little things that are easy to miss. Subtle body language cues or expressions, and Tim always seems to notice them long before I do, and takes the extra step to remind Jason that he's in capable hands. Jason acts up more around me, but I don't mind that. We're still getting to know each other, and I know the way I deal with him is a lot different than how Tim does it. If we're together long enough, I think that will fade away too.

It's almost a shame, because there is something wonderful and thrilling about the play fights I get into with Jason. There's a certain fantastic satisfaction in winning those fights with either a pin or an ending strike, and watching Jason ease down into surrender and acceptance. Feeling him relax and give in beneath me, his throat baring. It's incredible to _feel_ that switch from aggression to submission.

I hum amusement into Jason's mouth, stroking my hands up his sides and letting him keep me close. This is just sex, we agreed. I'm just Jason's partner right now, I'm not his dom. If he wants to take advantage of that to manhandle me a bit, that's fine. It would be fine if he wanted to be the one fucking me too, but all of his hints have been in this direction so this is what we're doing.

Jason might be a sub, and he might usually prefer to be the one getting fucked, but sometimes he likes to switch things around. He's not a switch, and he's got _no_ interest in being a dom, but he likes playing the top every once in awhile. Tim was stubborn about it for awhile, but eventually he relaxed into letting Jason play top between them sometimes. I think Jason's willingness to let Tim ride him to start with helped with that, and so did the fact that Jason never treated me any different even though in normal sex we switched from the very beginning. Tim was just concerned that it would change Jason's view of him as a dom, the dork.

He probably didn't expect what _actually_ happened the first time he played bottom. Which was that it was all done and finished, and then Jason grinned, tugged me closer — I'd been watching — and commented that the sex had been great, but he was _itching_ for some play and would _love_ for us to double team him. I don't know if it was Jason's talent for reading people, or just honesty, but it was the perfect thing to say.

Jason tugs at my hair a little bit — I hum a quiet warning this time — and then says, "Get your head in the game, Dick," between our mouths. "You're pretty and fun to touch, but I'm not playing second fiddle to whatever thoughts are in your head."

I give a soft laugh, and then pull away so I can nuzzle against the side of his throat and press soft kisses to it. "Sorry, Jason. Long night. I'm here, I promise."

"Do I need to kick someone's ass?" he asks, and it might sound like mocking but I'm positive he really means that. If someone was bothering me, or there was some specific reason I was out of it, Jason would hunt that person down and make sure they ended up in a prison. Maybe with a few broken bones, because Jason's got a vicious protective streak in him when it comes to the people he chooses to care about, but they'd get there. He respects us too much to kill, unless they've seriously messed one of us up. Even then, if we _asked_ , he would hold back.

I shake my head, and then take in a deep breath just to get his scent in my nose. He also smells a bit like my shampoo, which is a nice touch that makes me give an appreciative sound. "No, I'm good. Just a little tired."

Jason's fingers rub across my scalp, and I lean into him and give a gentle flex of my fingers around his waist. "Hard though," he comments. "You good for a fuck?"

I give a small nod against his shoulder. "It's what you want." I might pass out when we're done, but Jason wants it so I'll give it. I'm not _that_ tired, not enough that I can't ignore it, and Jason's right, I _am_ hard. It's hard to resist Jason even when I'm at my most controlled, and this is not one of those times.

He slides his legs up my sides, unhooking them from the back of my thighs. Then he's rolling us, pressing me onto my back, and I flick my eyes open to look up at him. There's something soft to Jason's gaze, even as his hands press my shoulders down into the bed and his weight settles down across my thighs. I still arch one eyebrow, and give a bemused and crooked smile, to ask him what he's doing. I've got no problem with it, but Jason seemed like he was on a bit of a one-track mission and he usually doesn't switch his plans around when he's got something in mind.

Jason rolls his shoulders in a shrug, and his mouth curls in a smirk. "Relax, Dick," he murmurs. He shifts off of me, and my eyebrow rises a little higher when he slides his way between my thighs. He doesn't reach for the discarded bottle of lube though, so it doesn't look like he's swapping things on me.

My breath catches a little bit when he bends down, mouth pressing kisses to my stomach. It catches more noticeably when he trails a path of them down my torso, lingering at the hollow of my hip for a second before flashing me a grin. "Jason," I breathe, "I really am good, I promise."

"Shut up," he orders, without any real heat to it. His head tilts to the side, and he purposely exhales right over the jut of my cock. I swallow, curling my hands in the sheets as his gaze rises back up to meet mine. "You think I want a substandard fuck, Dick?" His tone is back to teasing, and his hands press against the inside of my thighs with steady pressure to part them a little wider. Wide enough for his shoulders to be between them. "Relax and enjoy."

His lips are on me before I can even think about protesting, mouthing at the side of my cock. His eyes close, and he presses kisses up the side of me until he can wrap his mouth around the head. I reach down on automatic, curling my fingers into his hair. Not dragging him closer, even though I _really_ want to, but just gripping the strands for something to hold onto. I can _feel_ the approving rumble of sound in the back of his throat, and I suck in a sharp breath and close my eyes. His tongue strokes up the little bit of me in his mouth, and then targets particularly sensitive spots with practiced precision. I flex my hands in his hair, my thighs tensing underneath the press of his hands.

I wasn't totally hard before, but _oh_ I am now. Jason is way too damn good at this, and it helps that I know he gets off on it. It's not a chore to him, or a job. He can get on his knees for Tim or me, get us off with his mouth, and be hard and desperate without having ever been touched. It's pretty amazing.

Jason's jaw loosens, and then he's sliding lower on me. A tilt of his head, a swallow that I can only feel a little bit of, and then he's pushing all the way down. My head tilts back, my neck arching as I gasp. A moan is the next thing to escape my mouth, as my fingers clench and release in Jason's hair and I try not to pull or push at him. I can feel his answering sound, feel the vibration in his throat, and I shiver a little bit. His hands squeeze my thighs, and then I give a sharp cry as his cheeks hollow out and he sucks, _hard_. He reacts to the sound like it's the starting gun to a race, and I can't do anything but clench my hands in his hair and hold on.

He's not holding back, not slowing down or teasing to draw it out, and his skill sends me hurtling towards my release. Not embarrassingly fast, but fast enough that I'm tempted to try and stop myself, or at least slow it all down so I can hold on and enjoy it for longer.

Jason's not having any of it. It's like he's decided to see how fast he can get me off, because everything he does is _exactly_ what I love, repeated and twisted until there's no break, no chance to breathe between the shocks of pleasure.

"God, _Jason_ ," I moan. My hands must be tight enough in his hair to hurt, but he doesn't stop me. In fact, the vibration of an echoing moan around my cock makes me give a startled shout. It has to be faked, because there's no way that Jason's getting hard again, not this fast, but that doesn't mean it doesn't feel _amazing_. "Jason!"

Another vibration — this one feeling more like it's one of his low, rumbling, _growls_ — and I buck up against his grip and arch, the coil low in my gut snapping and roaring through me. I press down hard on the back of his skull, holding him to me out of instinct, as I give another shout into the apartment. The feeling of him swallowing around me cuts off my shout with a gasp, as it always does, and his hands stroke up my thighs and to my hips, keeping steady pressure.

After a few moments I go boneless, my hands loosening in his hair and my back collapsing out of the arch to leave me flat again. I'm… _God_ , I'm tired. Good, I'm _so_ good, but also ready to pretty much pass out here and now.

I shudder when Jason draws back, letting me slip out of his mouth as he lightly squeezes my hips. He's moving, and I pry my eyes open in time to see him climb up over me, his hands settling to either side of my shoulders. He's grinning, though the expression in his eyes looks gentle, not bright with passion or lust. I manage a small smile back, along with a satisfied hum of noise. He snorts.

"Alright, come on, Dick. Underneath the covers; snuggle up to whichever side of Little Red you want and I'll take the other."

I blink as he rolls off of me, getting to his feet and arching his back to crack it. "But—" I start, and he turns towards me.

"You're totally _exhausted_ ," he says, with that grin still twisting his mouth. "I can deal with a little extra energy. Get under the fucking covers, D; I've got the light." He's heading for the switch before I can argue. I smile at his back before obeying his not-quite-a-command.

Tim is totally unconscious when I turn back to him, which definitely explains the lack of noises from his side of the bed. I slide beneath the covers, and take just a second to check his pulse before I let myself really relax. It's slow, but within a normal range for someone that's asleep. He also twitches and grumbles a little bit when my hand pulls his wrist out from beneath the blankets, and that's good enough for me. He'll be just fine tomorrow, I'm sure. If this alien stuff was a real problem, Jason would have known.

I pull Tim towards me, getting him in the middle of the bed and pushing up close to his chest. His head fits beneath my chin, and I flick the covers on the other side back for Jason, leaving my arm across Tim's waist. My manhandling of him gets some more pointed grumbling, and he shivers a little bit when I pull the covers away. I press a soft kiss to the top of his head, and then look up to find Jason. He's watching us, with a smile that I'd call _fond_ curling his mouth. He catches my gaze, gives a slightly wider smile, and then flicks the lights off.

The curtains across the window are drawn, but I can feel it when Jason slips in on the other side of Tim. I draw my arm back to make room for him, and Tim breathes out a barely perceptible approving sound when Jason presses up against his back. A hand finds my bicep first, and then slides down until Jason has his arm slung over both of us, his fingers resting lightly on my back. I reach out in return, pushing just a little closer until I can slide my hand down around Jason's shoulder and tangle my fingers lightly in his hair. The rumble of approval I get warms my chest, and I smile into the pillow and Tim's hair, shifting to make sure that we're not crushing Tim between us. Our arms are long enough to go over; just have to make sure that Tim's still able to breathe.

The way he wiggles against me, fingers curling against my chest, confirms that he's just fine.

"Tomorrow," I promise, barely speaking above a whisper. "Both of you; whatever you want."

Jason gives a soft laugh. "Go to sleep, you moron. You need it."

I squeeze my fingers in his hair, closing my eyes and ducking my head a little further into Tim's hair. "Love you, Little Wing," I murmur, my jaw stretching wide in a yawn immediately after.

"Love you too." His answer is quiet, hardly enough for me to hear, but I do. I can't help smiling.


End file.
